


OBAN: Common Sense

by TengIlar



Category: Oban Star-Racers
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-11 00:34:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15303558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TengIlar/pseuds/TengIlar
Summary: Another version of serial events.Nearer to real life.Before a year of the original summary





	OBAN: Common Sense

To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:  
A time to be born and a time to die;  
A time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;  
A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;  
A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;  
A time to cast away stones and a time to gather stones together;  
A time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;  
A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;  
A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;  
A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.

 

Oban magnificent and unknown,  
You keep eternal secrets!  
Anyone who has seen you once  
With you forever will remain.

 

**Part I “The year of the Earth life”**

PROLOGUE

Avatar has power beyond the comprehension of mortals, but he is not an all—powerful deity. When Avatar is unable to defeat the evil, more than magic is needed to help him.

There was a man in the Arena of the Heart…

Alkevu

Unremembered ancient language produced this name. Alkevu become voluntary.  
His power is superior to Avatar’s power for a short time. However, the price for this ritual  
is extremely high. 

Alkevu will be forgotten by everyone who has ever known him; his life will be wiped without any impression out of time and history. And then he will die.

But those few minutes while he is alive, he is infinite in his strength. He can create worlds and can destroy them without a trace; he can turn time back and can stop it. There is only one restriction: Alkevu uses this power in the name of love.

There was a man in the Arena of the Heart.

He was afraid, although he was far from being a coward. He knew what was coming,  
and his decision was voluntary. Too powerful and terrible evil threatened the lives  
of people dear to him. 

The man knew that everyone would forget him, even those close to him. It was part  
of the price he is to pay for their freedom.

Tears rolled down his cheeks, he wanted so much to make it.

He took a deep breath and a step forward.

One.

Two.

The man whispered something soundlessly, and then …

Stone plates, covered with patterns ancient like Oban itself, sang severely and solemnly. Walls of scarlet fire shot up, separating the man from the rest of the world and devouring him. He screamed in pain, while he plunging into plates slowly, like in a quagmire.  
The formidable light blind and burned everything around. When it went out, the Arena  
was empty.

Oban continued to sing sadly and quiet.

***

E  
va was a disembodied mind in an infinite space. In all directions how much she could see, scarlet lines forming geometric figures scattered in spatter. Shined in a warm live light,  
they fascinated Eva with a continuous change of forms.

Sometimes Eva thought that she was seeing mom and dad. And the voice that sounded everywhere and nowhere promised her that her parents would come and their family would be together again. Eva tried to talk with this voice, but she could not talk. She could  
onlythink and the voice always heard her and answered her. It was so funny that Eva couldn’t help but laughing (mentally). She always, with impatience, waited for the next appearance of another friend (as she used to call him) and was sad, if he was silent.  
Probably he was busy. Like her dad…

Hurt against the father broke out with a renewed force of deep children’s grief.

But still… Eva waited her father again and again to forgive him. And every day  
she was disappointed without receiving any news from him again. In her dreams,  
whereshe was waiting for another friend, the girl was almost happy. Since the age of twelve, another friend talked to her less and less often, and then fell silent. And then she stopped see  
this dream completely. Eva was alone in the grip of an endless wait.

Selfless love and deeply hidden resentment, superimposed on the riot of the adolescent period, threatened to end in an explosion. And it happened.

Her father did not call her at her fourteenth birthday. Eva decided to escape from  
the boarding school. Which she did the next day.

This event can be considered a starting point in our story.  
And only Avatar knows how it all will end.

**EPISODE 1 "TIME FOR WAR. FARSEEING LIKE THE PRESIDENT"**

The President of the Earth Coalition counted the crogs’ ships on an interactive map.  
The truce was in force, but there was no doubt that the war would begin as soon as the taboo would be cancelled.

— Their most serious vulnerabilitie we were able to detect are eyes and ears. There are places necessary to beat, — one of the few who survived the first attack stood before the Council.

— Sergeant, we understand why the eyes. But — ears? —The chairman of the meeting  
didn’t conceal skepticism.

— I do not know, but they, for a while, sag.

Biologist, specialist in the study of extraterrestrial races intervened:

— This is possible, since in those organs that we take for ears a huge number of nerve endings are placed. It same if somebody would poked a stiletto in the navel, — not paying attention  
to frowning colleagues, the scientist continued to develop his idea, —during the cooperation,  
we had time to study the Crogs’ structure of the body approximately. I can say that,  
so-called ears perform functions like the patterns on a head of a Philsman: they identify  
infra- and ultrasonic radiation. Unique locators, which give the Crogs a perceptible superiority in a melee.So, the sergeant is right in saying that the ears are a vulnerable point.

Members of the Council pondered what had been said. Do not rush to offer solutions,  
before you understand the problem as much as it is possible — an immutable law of important discussions.

Now the Council was trying to understand the problem. And some very promising areas  
for further action had already loomed. Crogs were certainly strong, but not invincible.  
For several years the Earth Coalition was trying to cooperate with them. Military alliance, the supply of unique technologies (stolen by crogs from other races of "allies" — read slaves), the study of new organisms.But, the Government had been on the alert, so the attack  
on guard was a surprise, but it did not become a tragedy on the scale of the war.

Henry John McMillan, an advisor, a specialist in defense technology, was writing something down thoughtfully. A young ambitious fellow of the scientific center, he achieved participation in the military council and expected to become president after several years.

He had already prepared to ask a question that was obvious (Had nobody noticed it yet?  
It's incredible!), when…

The holographic field was lit up with a strange pink color; a column of radiance was flashed and formed into a huge man—like creature in crimson robes.

"I am the AVATAR!" —It thundered, —and I invite you, the human race, to take part  
in the Great races of Oban. From now on to racing, I declare a truce for twenty—five Earth years! Those who violate it will be excluded from the list of participants! Do not miss  
your chance to win the Ultimate Prize! A year before the competition my servant will come  
to tell you about the rules and timing! Get ready!

The Avatar disappeared. A strange golden symbol remained under the hologram: curved rays, remotely resembling wings ran out from the oval shape in the center.With a mixture  
of distrust and amazement 

The Council observed the ships of crogs being removed from their positions and leave  
the limits displayed by the map.

A year before, you say?

The Avatar’s messenger appeared yesterday. Henry McMillan had been preparing for this  
for a long time. Glancing into the notebook, he dialed a secretary and gave an order.

 

***

D  
on Wei paced the study. Someone called an hour ago and, introducing himself  
as the Secretary of the President of the Earth Coalition, appointed the time and venue of his, Don Wei’s, encounter with Mr. President. For a confidential conversation.

He told the staff to check all available information about the call. It turned out that phone number and the channel were encrypted. That is, with high probability, the President really wanted to talk to Don Wei. What could be the reason for such an invitation? With each step the manager, or as employees called him, the commander, tried to approach the understanding of this question. On the move it was easier to think.

Maybe this is due to the testing activity of the Racers Training Center? "Wei Reis"  
was the ideal place for testing the newest aircrafts. Also, the Center was preparing pilots  
for these models. The RTC worked with civilian modifications. But, in the light of rumors about an impending war, there may be authorization to deal with the military ones.

Don Wei chuckled. Good version. Anything else?

M—m—m … Well, for example, transportation of secret cargoes? His pilots are crosses state borders constantly. Race cars are out on the track throughout the Earth's coalition. Was  
it unlikely? Perhaps.

What if … a race? A large interplanetary competition, but on a foreign territory? For  
what could be arranged something like this? The image of the nations, demonstration  
ofits’ capabilities and creation of new alliances — as in ordinary races. Jury?One representative by each participant. Of course, it would be better if the judge was  
someone disinterested, independent, but this is Utopia. Don Wei went to the table and wrote down his thoughts in the scheme to check all options once again. He crossed something out, added something, thought about it, and, dropping the pen, began pacing again.

Smiling secretary flew away having brought Don Wei to the door. Right now, before  
the meeting, it occurred to him, that the conversation and its consequences could be serious. But there was nowhere to retreat. So, for a moment clenching his fists in white (nothing  
less than snow—white) gloves, he relaxed and went into the study.

Henry John McMillan was waiting for him, they exchanged greetings. "Please sit down,"  
the president invited. Don Wei nodded with dignity. A round table provided seats  
for several people. Now there were only two armchairs. Some documents lay at the elbow  
of McMillan, glasses with water, pens, flag of the Earth Coalition. The most usual, unremarkable negotiation room. Don Wei mentally appreciated this circumstance  
as a favorable. It was easier to focus on the essentials in a familiar faceless environment.

McMillan clicked the remote control: "Now, let's begin." The screen hanging on the wall blinked and showed the map. 

The president said in a tone of a museum guide: 

— As you can see, the crogs built battle fortifications on the planets near the Colony 3  
and Colony 7 — the point of the laser pointer slid over the image, slowing down in the right places. — These Colonies are of great strategic importance, since they have rich resources and are not populated by intelligent races that we would have to suppress, and this is well known to the crogs. There is every reason to believe that they will try to attack in June next year. Already now we have begun evacuation of women and children. Only the men — scientists, engineers, drillers and others working in shifts, and the military should remain  
in the Colonies .

When the president was talking, a funny triangular wrinkle appeared on his forehead. Now Macmillan was silent and looked at the commander, and the wrinkle disappeared.

Don Wei saw that a question was expected from him and asked: 

— I understand, Mr. President that you are telling me about this for a reason. What will be my role in this war? 

McMillan (with relief?) smiled. Leaning forward, he warned:

— What I want to talk with you about is a secret. I’ll need you to sign of non-disclosure agreement. 

Don Wei nodded. The President leaned back in his chair and clasped his fingers:

— Twenty-four years ago, the war with the crogs was stopped by the intervention of a certain creature who called himself the Avatar. The truce had a clear practical purpose: to give  
the intelligent species an opportunity to prepare for the Great Races of Oban.

Don Wei made a sip of water, his assumption in general proved to be correct.

McMillan continued:

— The purpose of the race is a certain Ultimate Prize.Honestly, we have very scant information about what it is, and who is Avatar. We collected a bit of legends, scientific discoveries — any information that could shed light on these questions. Now it can be argued that the Avatar — is an entity enjoying the confidence of all races. His strengths  
and capabilities are endless. Obviously, the team that will win the Ultimate Prize will bring considerable benefits to it’s race. The servant, the representative of the Avatar,  
gave us the rules, schedules and coordinates of the planets, where competition will take place. I will give you all these at the end of our conversation. I chose you,  
because your professional reputation is flawless.

—Thank you, Mr. President for such a high evaluation of my work. Did I understand correctly that the truce will end in a year, and immediately after that the Races will begin? — Don Wei was already mentally calculating the composition of the future team and the timing for preparation.

The President nodded:

—All available resources will be at your disposal, but I'm waiting for victory."

After a pause he added significantly:

— The assignment is dangerous, so the reward will be generous. For you and for the team. You should sign this, — he handed across the table the documents that lay at hand.

Don Wei went into reading. After reading, he put a sweeping signature on each page.

***

I  
t was already late at night. Don looked through the information about the races. From time to time he made notes in the jotter. The rules were tough, which meant that the race would be very difficult. Definitely worth making changes to the classic line—up and taking shooters  
in a team. The commander looked thoughtfully at the list of those whom he wanted to see  
in his team: Rick, Stan, Koji. Few.Too few. He needed at least one pilot of the same level  
as Rick, and at least two mechanics like Stan and Koji. But where to find them? And how  
to persuade these three? With Stan and Koji it will be easy — it is necessary to talk  
with Miguel.

But with Rick, indeed, there may be difficulties. Their relationships, to put it mildly, went wrong after that scandal with doping, and after Don fired his champion. Thunderbolt's reputation was hopelessly corrupted, and even if he was guiltless, it did not matter.  
Yes, the biggest tracks were closed for him. Business is business. But in a race where, in fact, there was only one rule — do not kill the opponent, Rick became irreplaceable. Perhaps  
it makes sense to negotiate with Thunderbolt, outlining the benefits, which this offer promises to him, his wife and their future child? (Contrary to everything, Rick married, almost immediately after his career collapsed. Don Wei did not know what it was connected with, but the fact remained: Janice refused the racer, while he was at the height of glory,  
and accepted his proposal when the others turned away from him. A little plump blonde, even more round because of the already obvious abdomen, was the complete opposite  
of her husband. He was forced to follow a strict diet; she did not imagine life without sweets. He was a Hollywood handsome athletic body, she was … well … pretty ordinary.  
But she spread an atmosphere of coziness and soft peace around herself.)

Don Wei wrote out the names of other candidates in the columns and examined them  
for several minutes.  
Someone had to be crossed out because of personal qualities — these people did not have  
an unshakable will to win. It means they would be useless in the Great races.

He couldn’t stand it when he was interrupted in moments of concentration. So when  
the phone rang, the commander looked at the screen with annoyance, intending to drop  
the call. Seeing the name of the caller, Don hesitated a second, but picked up the receiver: 

— Good evening, Mrs. Stern. What is required? As far as I remember, all bills are paid,  
or I had been missed something?

— Mr. Wei, I ought to inform you, Don Wei could hear how the woman at the other end took a breath, — Miss Eva Wei has disappeared!"

— What?

The reality has broken up into pieces.

How disappeared?

**EPISODE 3 "A TIME TO LOSE, AND A TIME TO SEEK. ALARMED, LIKE DON WEI"**

Don Wei was annoyed. His wife is being threatened, and she did not even consider  
it was necessary to inform him about it! 

— Maya! Don’t you realize how serious this is?

Maya was critically examining her makeup, leaning towards the mirror. Having corrected lipstick with a couple of light movements, she straightened and turned to her husband: 

— Don, name at least one celebrity who would not receive such letters”.

— But in case you are engaged in a dangerous sport, is it not wise to be safe? — Don Wey's cheek twitched.

He was giving orders to the security service now in the mind’s eye. Maya is unforgivably frivolous in this matter.

Guessing her husband's thoughts, she went over and put a finger to his lips:

— As long as we can fly, we still have a chance! I don't want to believe that this is the end  
of the world.

She kissed her husband and went to prepare for interplanetary competitions. Don obeyed her, as he always obeyed, although later he regretted it very much.

A nine-year-old scene swept past the commander's eyes, while he was listening to the report of Mrs. Stern. She was a director of the boarding school, where Eva lived after her mother had died, and where he was now riding to.

According to Mrs. Stern, found the loss of a girl at six o'clock in the evening,  
when she did not show up for dinner. Eva’s roommate, Amy, was sent for her,  
but she returned without result. After this, other pupil began to remember that none  
of them saw Eva that day. Employees of the boarding school watched records from video cameras and searched the entire territory. The girl was not found. During the search  
they found out that the scooter and a small number of things from her room disappeared.  
The director called the police, and now cynologists were combing the neighborhood.

 

The memories that Don Wei tried to erase from his memory for many years were stirred up with just three words: "Eva has disappeared." So the water in a few seconds become turbid,  
it is only to disturb the sediment at the bottom. Don closed his eyes, trying to swallow, digest his fear. He did not dare to get behind the wheel himself — his hands trembled. The driver controlled the car silently, checking on the navigator

Looking back, Don saw only his own guilt in what had happened. It was just how  
he understood responsibility. You are the only person whose actions you can change.  
So it makes no sense to shift your guilt on others if your actions would have been enough  
to prevent misfortune.

Don Wei lost count of how much he did not do that could have saved Maya's life.

If he insisted that she continued to wear full equipment, and not just a helmet.

If he was able to convince her to take the danger seriously.

If he had given the order to replace the ship before the very race.

If he had looked more attentively at that scum—mechanic.

If he finally disrupted the race and locked Maya (if it comes to that) at this time!

If…

Too much of “ifs”.

His headache was terrible those days and weeks. Don was sick of horror and liters of alcohol consumed. He had never drunk more than a glass, but then … Then he tried to erase everything from his memory in order to survive or not go insane. Flames, the wreckage  
of the ship, fragments of the body (it seems so call IT boobies from the news), rescuers  
who were not needed, firemen, pouring fire with foam … How fortunate that he had thought of taking Eva away from this spectacle, seeing the accident itself is enough for her! Don heaved himself up and, leaning against the walls, staggered into the nursery. Eva cried  
in her sleep and called mom.

Don Wei grimaced. It was almost physically painful for him to remember this.

— The court ordered: because the deliberate breakdowns of mechanisms of the aircraft Cloud II, namely the fuel supply system and the bailout system, which entailed death of the pilot,  
to sentence the defendant Oliver Matthew Carr to the death penalty for murder of the first degree. 

Fall of a hammer.

—IT'S NOT ME! NOT ME—E—E—E! — The wild animal scream of a caught beast flew around the hall, echoing in the ears of those present, — NOT ME—E—E!

The defendant fought in the hands of the guards, trying to break free, while he was being dragged out

Mobile stopped, Don emerged from the memories. Now he was calm and focused. Panic should be left for later.

Don Wei had already dealt with the police. Then he lost his wife, and now he could lose  
his daughter. And if cops were powerless to return Maya, they must return Eva.  
And he mastto help them.

Meeting Mrs. Stern, he asked firstly to show him his daughter's personal file, her photos  
and… her school marks. Yes, it had no relation to the search now, but Don could not resist. He would view them later, why not?

Looking at Eva's face, he strongly suspected that he would not recognize her, they met  
by chance. He was looking at a girl with big, naive eyes and a stubborn, cocked chin.  
A strange combination. He felt that he did not know her at all. Mrs. Stern mentioned  
that the day before yesterday was Eva's birthday. He did not even remember it. His daughter was waiting for him, gave him another chance, which he missed and did not understand it. Listening to himself, Don Wei was amazed at how calm his voice sounded.

Mrs. Stern obviously felt uncomfortable. Not only has a pupil disappeared (Damn it!),  
but also what a pupil! The situation was, frankly, lousy for both the boarding school  
and for Mrs. Stern. A prospect of litigation, numerous exhausting checks and imprisonments loomed now. But the size of the term depended on how soon and in what condition  
they would find Eva. If she was found in a couple of days, safe and sound, this was one kind of situation. But if they wouldn’t find her at all or something would happen to her…  
Mrs. Stern tried not to think about this. And, of course, much now depended on the person who talked so calmly with her and police.

After coordinating his actions with the officer, Don Wei sketched a short text, re-read  
it and, fearing that the resolve would run out, picked up the phone.

—Good afternoon, information? I need the number of the Broadcasting Center.  
Yes, I'm writing. Thank you.

Soon people, who turned on the TV, saw the announcement: "A girl the photograph  
of which you see on the screen has disappeared. Anyone who can give at least  
some information about her whereabouts, please contact us at the shown address or phone. Remuneration is guaranteed»

The cops rummaged through Eva's personal belongings, examined her phone, made a request to the motor transport department about the scooter, sent photos to the police departments  
of neighboring cities, checked all the motels, hostels and hotels within a radius  
of one hundred miles from the boarding school. By the end of the second day, a scooter  
was found in the parking lot of one of them. Eva was not there.

 

***

T  
he administrator of the crappy hotel stammered, looking at two cops and an angry tall man in a strict suit. It seemed like a second more, and Don Wei would start exhaling flames.

However, instead, greeting his teeth, he listened to how this cretin bleated to the officers  
he doesn’t know where the girl was.

The police searched the room that Eva occupied: there were her things left. 

Apparently — almost everything she took with her, even the documents stayed here.

Officer Lawson received the badge just recently, it was the first operation in which  
he participated, and he really wanted to stand out, to prove that he was a good cop. Having received a scolding from the sergeant and the order not to get in the way, he felt dejected.  
But not for long.

Noticing that there was an old video camera in the cafeteria, Lawson approached the cook and asked him about the girl with an important air. Yes, she ordered a milkshake.  
Yes, she paid in cash.

Yes, she left at once, as soon as … wait, he must remember … When the news was over, there was nobody at her table, this the cook remembered for sure. But when exactly she  
left— no, he can’t.

Officer Lawson reported to the sergeant what he had known. Videos were viewed. On one  
of them it was clearly visible how a tall bearded man standing in line at the handout behind Eva added something into her glass while she was looking the other way. When Eva left  
the cafeteria (moving in a strange way), the bearded man followed her.

The recording was made a few hours ago.

 

***

J  
ordan saw a very strange dream: a funny old man with ve-e-ery long eyebrows looked inquisitively at the cadet. It seemed that he looked into the very essence, into the soul,  
he saw everything deep and personal. Jordan was seized with a stiff numbness; he could neither move nor sigh.

A minute later (or maybe an eternity later?), The old man mumbled something and struck  
his staff on the invisible floor, crumbled a swarm of golden sparks. They clothed Jordan  
with a dense cocoon. Their light intensified and intensified until it became intolerable.

Jordan woke up. Half asleep he suddenly thought he saw these sparks in reality. The Cadet blinked. His barracks, habitual for each curl of peeling plaster on the ceiling, didn’t conceal anything unusual in itself. Of course, it seemed to him. Jordan yawned  
and turned over — to sleep again.

Habitually angry at the usual reveille, Jordan met a new day. Remembering that today  
is a day off; he jumped up briskly, and exchanging jokes with other cadets, engaged in daily hygiene.

Short leave pass! Freedom is a Great Word!

Friends were persuading him to go with them to the ruins outside the city, to recall childhood. We all climbed trees, poked curious noses into abandoned buildings and searched for own secret cherished corners.

Jordan himself felt today something vague, burning, exciting. Probably, this is how  
the presentiment of adventures is felt.

Three young, splashing with unspent forces and happiness, Cadets, teenagers in fact, run across the meadow. Here, outside the city, it was wonderful. The ear, accustomed to eternal noise and buzz of transport, with surprise, caught the chatter of grasshoppers. Army boots entangled in high, waist—deep grass, leaped over armature and concrete.

Old ruins — the purpose of the road — seemed to be dozing. From a distance they resembled a decrepit cat, which lay down, exposing its' full belly to the sun.

Having reached the place, the Cadets heard inside sounds of some incomprehensible fuss, which alerted them. They were about to leave for home, as the air was cut by a woman's heart-rending scream: "Help! Help!"


End file.
